


Welcome Aboard

by kolibris



Category: Persona 5
Genre: (Polythieves), Kink Meme, Masturbation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Personas Made Them Do It, Team Dynamics, Uncontrollable Sex Drive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 10:32:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13269603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kolibris/pseuds/kolibris
Summary: Awakening to her Persona is more freeing than Makoto could have ever imagined.





	Welcome Aboard

**Author's Note:**

> For [this kinkmeme request](https://personakinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/993.html?thread=518881#cmt518881):
> 
>   _Alternate universe where using a Persona for the first time makes the user irresistibly horny instead of tired. Do they leave the Metaverse and masturbate furiously? Do the other Thieves "break them in" in one of the safe rooms? Whatever it is, they need to get off, and they have to do it now._

When was the last time she rode her motorcycle? Makoto can’t remember. 

Before the investigation, definitely. There were a lot of things she had time for before that. Even if it was almost all just staring down into her books or her dinner, she could still say her time was her own. But she’s been so busy preparing for the mock exam that it must have been before school started up – if even that.

She’s an idiot for stopping in the first place, because the first seconds of going airborne off the rampway, like she doesn’t care if she ever touches back down, brings the high from Johanna right back.

Her wheels slam back down again, kicking up sticky pink, and all she can focus on is the strip of ramp ahead, the bank almost forgotten behind her. Sharp wind snapping around her hair, heart beating wild in her chest, there’s nothing left but visceral thrill pushing her forward. She finally peels out to a stop on the Central Street sidewalk, narrowly missing a few ATMs, and leans herself over the front of the bike. Johanna rumbles hard between her thighs and Makoto chokes back a giggle because she just feels so damn _good_. And when was the last time she felt that way? 

It feels like she could almost...

A car is following her. She twists the throttle to a screaming pitch before she recognizes a spot of bright red in it—Ann, and Akira is right next to her behind the wheel. Makoto doesn’t remember seeing a car before, but the Phantom Thieves must have more tricks than she’s realized. If this is their getaway vehicle, perhaps she should hop off now. Before she can even move to dismount, Johanna breaks apart into light and Makoto tumbles to the ground. 

“Senpai!” 

The Thieves are on her as soon as they arrive, but she pulls herself to her knees and waves their hands away. “Johanna, where…?”

“Wait,” Morgana calls as he rushes over, “don’t be alarmed, she hasn’t disappeared. It’s difficult to control your Persona at first.”

As he talks, the tight fabric on her arms dissipates to skin, and just when she recognizes the feel of her school uniform, the suit from before forms back over her in pops of blue fire. A fresh thrill of exhilaration runs through her, from her face all the way down to her toes, and she shudders. _Warm_ , whatever this suit is, it’s far too warm; something almost molten starts to pulse underneath her skin. And it’s distracting, too, when Makoto realizes the cat has stopped talking already and most of whatever he said never even reached her ears.

“Oh.” Makoto gives a tiny nod anyway. “I-I see.” 

She still makes no move to get up. Johanna’s purring engine is gone, but the rhythmic throbbing that’s coursing down her body feels like it’s settling straight between her thighs like before. She feels like…

She feels like she wants to touch herself.

She cups a hand over her mouth to stifle the small moan that tries to tumble out of it. _No_ , she can’t, not _here_ —what is wrong with her? She should be considerate, wait until she gets home. Then she can take all the time she needs, won’t have to rush as she spreads her legs and parts herself, won’t have to think about anything else but the press of her fingers and of pleasure and heat and friction—

Akira leans over her. “Niijima. Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine—” she rises to her feet, with an unsteady wobble at the end that betrays her words, “—really, fine. That was just—Johanna took a lot out of me.”

“What are you feeling right now?”

Makoto darts her eyes away, quick and nervous, before she can think better of it. That was an unfairly pointed question. She isn’t sure how to respond, especially with this hot feeling sapping what’s left of her precious brain power, so her reply comes along a few beats too late. “Tired. I’m very, very tired.”

Yusuke stares at her too, scrutinizing her face the way she imagines he would some gallery piece. “Ah. Tired.”

“Y-Yes, nothing a nap can’t fix.” She wets her mouth that’s gone too dry. “I think I’ve got to go home now, I need to—I have to sleep, and I’ve got to make dinner, I don’t even know what time it is, so I—if we could leave—I would appreciate that.” 

Yusuke doesn’t respond to that, only glancing at Akira. When they turn back to look at her, Makoto gives them a thin smile. It’s unnaturally stiff; she knows it’s not convincing, but she hopes that even after everything she’s put them through, they’d extend her one last courtesy and leave her alone. All she has to do is go home, but she’s not sure she can even make it there now. The thought—that she can’t control it anymore, that she’d have to duck into some bathroom stall or narrow alley and slip a hand under her skirt, even if she wasn’t alone— makes the humming in her flesh roar even harder. She can barely stand up straight like this.

“Niijima-senpai,” Ann says, “you can’t leave.”

“I have to,” Makoto gasps out. “I can’t—I have to.”

“No, I mean… I mean you _can’t_ leave. You won’t get very far like this, you’ll just feel like you’re gonna… just believe me, okay? I know what this is like.”

“You know?” Finally, Makoto looks around at everyone else, watching her with serious faces and not a hint of surprise among them. Then— them, too? All of them? “Oh my god.”

Yusuke is the first one to look elsewhere. “We can’t stay here. Kaneshiro’s goons are surely looking for us by now.”

“Yeah, y’think?” Ryuji snaps.

“Oh, in here!” Morgana stands by a set of double doors and taps on them with a paw. Makoto should easily be able to recognize the real version of this – Bronxx, maybe? – but she can’t place it with the entire storefront plastered thick with bills. They join Morgana and with some force, the doors give way and crack open. Inside, the store is completely barren, everything from the empty shelving to the too-clean floor faintly lit up with the pale green glow from outside. Unnerving, to be sure, but Makoto is still silently thankful they don’t have to share the space with those ATMs. 

She stumbles inside and lets her back hit the wall so she can somewhat control her ungainly descent to the ground. Sitting down again does nothing for the worsening rush she feels, though. She shifts her thighs together in a way that must be obvious—but no one says anything as they walk in too, meandering around the store. When Ann stands over her, all Makoto still hears when she sees her face is _you’re useless_ , but the expression she has on now is purely honest concern. “Are you okay here like this?”

“Yes,” Makoto lies.

“Mona,” Akira starts, “could you…”

Morgana is already by the doors. “I know, I know. Just be ready to go if there’s any trouble.” There’s a brief gust as the howling, sucking wind is let inside, and then he’s gone.

No one else leaves with him.

They’re all standing there, just watching her, and Makoto could cry. If she couldn’t go home, the least they could do is give her some privacy. Her rational side attempts to calculate a plan that doesn’t involve getting herself off in front of four other people, but it’s being rapidly drowned out by the ferocious need working through her body. She manages to get out, “How does… why does this happen?”, and prays she can pay attention to the explanation this time.

“We don’t know,” Akira says. “There must be something about awakening to your Persona that triggers it, because it never happens again. We can summon ours fine now, no problems.” 

Ryuji nods. “Yeah, won’t be like this every time.” Hearing that gives Makoto some welcome relief. (And somewhere deep in her lizard hindbrain, crushing disappointment.)

“Right. The most important part is that you get somewhere safe and take care of it there. Otherwise it can make things… unnecessarily difficult. And dangerous.” She sees Ryuji and Akira meet eyes and _oh_ , she can start to guess the history behind those looks.

Then another pulse courses hot through her body and she clenches around nothing. She clamps her legs together to keep her hands from wandering any lower; that’s _got_ to be an obvious tell by now. Akira makes a noise that sounds almost soothing, and before she knows it he’s tipped her forward to sit on the floor behind her, and with one tug underneath her arms, he hikes her up against him until she’s craned underneath his head. The meeting of her back against him makes her nerves burst in sudden pleasure, so abrupt she nearly gets up in a panic.

“Hey, we gotcha. Just lay back down,” Ryuji says from one side and smoothes out her hair. It feels… _electric_ , his touch feels electric, and everything buzzes with pleasure. She rubs her head harder into his palm. To her right, Yusuke plucks her bangs away from the strange visor on her face, and then Ann comes in to kneel between her splayed out legs. She’s completely surrounded.

Yusuke leans in closer. “Niijima-san, it will be over sooner if you let us help you.”

“Help,” Makoto repeats aimlessly.

“Help you to feel good.” 

Yusuke lets one hand rest gently low on her stomach, doing nothing with it, but the intention alone makes her muscles jump all twitchy under his fingers. She won’t ask him to elaborate. What a ridiculous proposition this is, and she knows it. The right response here—no, the _only_ response here is no.

“ _Yes_ ,” is what she moans instead, cradling her head back in the crook of Akira’s neck, and he whispers “Niijima,” right next to her ear and it’s amazing how different he can make his voice sound, so much warmer, almost dangerous. It feels like acceptance, like permission for her to just… let go.

“Please… do it,” she says. “Help me.”

But Yusuke looks a little gunshy. He moves his hand down one tiny, horrible, teasing inch. 

“Wait, Niijima-senpai, let me…” Ann swallows down her shaky voice, “let me do this. I know what we like best so this can be quick, right? Isn’t this a girl’s job?” She shoves Yusuke’s hand aside with her own, and Yusuke makes a grumble of discontent.

Ryuji does too, muttering under his breath, “Weren’t sayin’ that when it was you.”

Ann’s face pinches up in irritation but she slides her hand down anyway, feeling all around the crotch of the suit, and Makoto arches into the touch—so _close_ , so so close to her clit, but no matter how much she tries to curve into Ann’s hand she just keeps barely missing it.

“Oh, what the hell,” Ann mutters to herself, “how are you supposed to open this? Geez, some design this is.”

“Your suit has zippers to spare,” Yusuke says dryly.

Ann snaps her head up. “Can everyone just shut up?”

It’s probably for the best that there’s no zipper, because otherwise Makoto might ask for something really inappropriate – she keeps eyeing Yusuke’s nice, long fingers – but then Ann’s finally drift down over her clit and she forgets all about anything else, arching upwards with a high keen.

“Like that?” Ann murmurs.

“Harder,” Makoto gasps, and Ann instantly responds with a firm, tight circle that makes her hips jump and god, Makoto’s never had another person touch her like this. She’s embarrassingly wet, so slick Ann can drag the fabric high up to her clit, dancing it under her fingers as she rubs Makoto with a practiced tempo. “Taka—Takamaki—oh, please,” she begs, “please, please,” so Ann flicks her fingers quicker, and she’s got her lip caught tight under her teeth and she’s eyeing Makoto with this excited _look_ that rushes her pulse even faster.

And there’s hands everywhere, voices everywhere, talking over one another and whispering reassurances. “Relax, Prez,” she hears in one ear; “Is this alright?” in the other. Makoto nods dumbly, too swept up to give much more acknowledgment than that; she’s writhing up like she’s in flames with tiny, frantic noises escaping from her lips. She bucks up hard enough for Ryuji’s strong arm to come brace her back down again, and another pair of hands – red, Akira’s – cradle her hips and socket her into place. She needs to move, they’ve got to let her _move_ , because she’ll crawl right out of her skin like this, overwhelmed by every sensation. Yet each hand on her stays gripped tight, brushing so close to her breasts and the dip of her stomach, and she’d be a liar if she said the control didn’t make her that much wetter.

Akira shifts underneath her, and Makoto gasps when she feels something thick pressed up against her bottom—god, Akira must be—she squirms again in his lap to make sure, and the quiet groan he tries to suppress only confirms it. She doesn’t know what comes over her, but when she reaches a hand to Akira’s cheek and pulls him in for a feverish kiss, he doesn’t resist.

“Wow,” someone says but she can’t place who, sounding so far away when her world becomes only the gentle suck on her bottom lip, only the knuckles teasing out her swollen clit, and she jolts back against Akira from how forcefully she comes. She squeezes her eyes shut and boils over, everything in her singing, screaming, until all she’s left with is a wash of silence.

The thrum of blue fire is gone. Johanna is finally quiet.

And when Makoto comes to, it’s still quiet, and she finds herself staring up at the sickly green ceiling. She quickly sits up. They’d laid her out on Ann’s lap, and Morgana is by her side, inspecting her like he’s approving a job well done. A long overdue burst of embarrassment fires in her brain and her hands fly up to her face.

“Feeling better?” Morgana asks nonchalantly, as if this wasn’t the most ridiculous series of events that ever happened in her entire life.

“Oh,” she squeaks, “that all really happened.”

“Take a minute,” Akira says, still leaned back against the wall. “It’s okay.”

“I… we all really… I just can’t believe it, I—Oh my god. I kissed you.” Makoto holds her head in her hands.

“Don’t be embarrassed.” Akira tries a comforting smile. It only sort of helps. “Well, okay, yeah, it’s embarrassing, but we all went through it. And now you did, too.”

“…Yes, I did.” She makes herself look at everyone else too, and to say they look proud might be a stretch but she can’t find a better way to describe the self-satisfied vibes they’re all giving off. “I have to admit, this… wasn’t exactly what I was expecting the Phantom Thieves to be doing, but I saw your teamwork firsthand. You’re all scarily organized. Very impressive.”

“Joker’s the real pro here,” Ryuji says with a wry laugh. “He’s been through every damn one of these.”

“Were you the first one?” Makoto asks, and Akira nods. “Really, you’re… thank you for being so understanding about this. Yours would have been even more difficult, then. I can’t imagine what it must have been like.”

“Our leader has never divulged those details with us, as a matter of fact.” Yusuke shoots a sideways glance over at him and Akira noticeably stiffens up.

“That’s right,” Ann says, “you never _did_ tell us what happened, Joker.”

“And I’m not going to.”

“That’s not fair!”

“I thought the guy was a _total_ freak,” Ryuji pipes up with a wicked grin. “Like yeah, I got it eventually when it happened to me, but man, shit was crazy at first.”

Akira quickly snaps back, “You want to stop talking or you want me to share something about yours?”, and all the good nature in Ryuji’s face evaporates.

“Dude, no! You promised!”

“No one else needs to suffer through that,” Morgana sighs.

“Stop arguing already, I wanna hear Joker’s story!”

“We’re not talking about this!”

It’s a little too late to rescind her compliment about their teamwork now, so Makoto lets them keep it. With a small smile, she climbs back to her feet. “You’ll all have to fill me in later, so let’s just leave for now, alright?” 

Akira just laughs, and when he touches Makoto on the arm to urge her along, his hand is just one of many. “I think I like keeping a secret or two instead.”

**Author's Note:**

> Happy 2018, y’all! Some resolutions of mine: finish a WIP in less than three months for once, goddamn??? And: be less of a lurker, so here’s my [twitter](https://twitter.com/kolibrisAO3) that I will try to actually use. And thanks for reading!


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